


Friday Lunch

by Meatball42



Series: Rare Pairs [66]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Bechdel Test Pass, Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash, Fic of 666 words, Food, Hand Feeding, Kink, Kneeling, Office BDSM, Sushi, isn't a tag but it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-15 18:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: On Fridays, Pepper reserves an hour off for lunch. It's the best part of her week.





	Friday Lunch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlassesOfJustice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassesOfJustice/gifts).



On Fridays, Pepper reserves an hour off for lunch. Natasha arrives at her office on the 80th floor of Stark Tower bearing a bag from one of Pepper's favorite area restaurants. Minnie, Pepper's secretary, knows to hold all calls. Natasha locks the door behind her, sets up lunch in the sitting area, and kneels in front of Peppers favorite couch.

Normally, Pepper's last call runs over. She gets to spend the last few minutes watching Natasha's perfectly placid demeanor soften into something honest and relaxed. They both know exactly what's going to happen; that it will be safe, comfortable, and fun, and that's something rare in Natasha's world. It settles her and allows her to let go of her constant vigilance.

Frankly, predictable and enjoyable don't coincide all that often during Pepper's daily life, either. She usually finishes her call with a soft smile, happy to move on to what's often the best part of her week.

This week, it's different.

Natasha sensed it coming in. She hasn't softened, relaxed, while she's knelt waiting in front of Pepper's couch. He ears are pricked, she's ready to move if necessary. The sight of it just fouls Pepper's mood even more. They're supposed to have this, this one thing! This one hour at the end of the week, a reward for handling all the pressures they're under the rest of the time.

When she hangs up. Pepper doesn't immediately move to the sitting area the way she normally would. She makes herself close her eye, take slow, deep breaths. She doesn't want to bring any of today's infuriations to Natasha. She doesn't want to poison the little oasis they've crafted, the one defined as much by their stubbornly protection of it as it is by the peace it brings.

Friday lunch is _for them_ and Pepper refuses to let anyone or anything interfere.

Pepper takes a minute, then two, to sit in silence. When she feels calm again, when she’s filled with the silence of her own office, of knowing that no one else is going to make any demands on her time or energy- then, she gets up and walks around her desk.

Natasha watches Pepper as she approaches. She has that expression on, the guileless, slightly surprised expression that fooled Pepper the whole time Natasha was playing Personal Assistant. It means she’s hiding her thoughts, and more importantly, that she thinks she needs to hide her thoughts. Friday lunch shouldn’t be a place where either of them have to hide anything.

But when Pepper sits down in front of her, Natasha smiles, and the mask fades away. She shakes her head, just enough for her short curls to shiver around her face, and the relaxation that Pepper always loves to see sets in.

“What do we have today?” Pepper asks.

“Sushi. Hand rolls,” Natasha explains, just as Pepper was about to question her selection.

Pepper crinkles her nose at her pert girl, and Natasha grins in response. Pepper sets to opening up the take-out boxes while Natasha perfectly fulfills her role of sitting there and looking pretty. When all the implements and sauces are prepared, Pepper picks up one of the hand rolls- a salmon roll with wood ear mushroom- and dips it in soy sauce. She holds it out to Natasha, one hand cupped underneath in case of a drip.

Natasha takes a bite. The seaweed crunches delicately and Natasha closes her eyes to appreciate the flavors as she chews. Pepper watches her as she takes the next bite, this one with some wasabi. Then she dips the roll in the sauce again for Natasha.

Halfway through their meal, Pepper brushes her clean hand through Natasha’s hair and tugs her forward. She kisses Natasha’s forehead right at the hairline and breathes in the sweet, clean scent of her. She can feel Natasha’s quiet sigh in her lips and under her hand.

Friday lunch is the best part of the week, and nothing can change that.


End file.
